𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖔𝖓

An 'L' Shaped Scar

TW: mentions of attempted rape, prostitution, alcohol, blood and other various triggers throughout this chapter

It had been about two weeks since her first visit to 19th century London and Y/n was already making a huge change. She had managed to get a much better grip on traveling between her home dimension and this Black Butler one. It took an insane amount of will and energy but she had figured out how to do it while awake, and it baffled her that she had been able to do it in her sleep. She figured it was an accident the first few times but she could now go back and forth a few times before feeling like she was getting torn in half, and time changed slowly when she traveled from her home to her Black Butler world. She hadn't quite figured out the exact equation for the time change but she was technically on summer break and didn't need to do any math. While she still mostly traveled between universes at night so she could get some proper sleep, only the night seemed to pass. However, when she traveled during the day, time seemed to freeze in place. It was quite strange. She had also been doing her nightly patrols that lasted from about 1 a.m. to 6 a.m and sometimes earlier or later depending on the dinner crowd. She had saved many women and young kids from creeps and crazy people hiding in the alleys, hardly ever seeing the same assailant twice. First they got off on a warning: she would cut them right on the cheek like she had done to her first criminal, giving them an 'L' shaped wound. If they continued after that she had begun to flash her gun at them and would shoot them in the foot. However, she didn't like to fire her weapon though because it was louder than she would've liked. Whenever her gun went off, lights would appear in the surrounding buildings and people would come to look out their windows at what caused the noise. Y/N always had to leave the scene with haste so as to not get caught red handed with a gun in hand and a creep wailing for help after being shot.

Almost every time she shot someone the Undertaker would stroll into the Pud, no matter the time of day to and ask if they had heard the racket last night and seen his 'mystery' vigilante. Every day they would tell him if they had heard the shot and sometimes they would say they caught a glimpse of someone but never saw their face. It was a game of chase and Y/N was only a few steps ahead of the Undertaker. Enough steps to be comfortable but not proud enough to stop checking behind her back. And every time he came to the pub he never ordered anything. He just asked them questions and if they were willing to get fitted for a coffin. Occasionally Y/N would ask him about how business was going and if he was any closer to finding out if the person was a man or woman, or their hair color, or their name. Time and time again he told her he was no closer but he would keep her updated if he got anything new. Y/N couldn't tell if he was lying or being honest but she hoped she had played innocent waitress from c/n (country name, if you're from London come up with another city/town) well enough to fool him.

The second week of Y/N's Black Butler adventure was almost at a close and nothing exciting had happened that day until an agitated and surly man came barging into the Dozy Dog at about 11 o'clock for a drink. Y/N hadn't recognized him until she saw his face, the letter 'L' carved into his cheek. She felt her heart skip a beat as she went to seat him at the bar. She had never seen one of her punished criminals at the pub before, and if she had they must've stopped coming after she ripped them a new one. She felt a little dumb for not recognizing a man she had basically assaulted in an alleyway but it was always dark and she was usually tired when she went on patrols. Plus she had punished over 10 men so far, so she definitely wasn't going to remember them all. When the man reached the bar, he loudly shouted at Alice to get him a beer and drank most of it in one go. Many other customers noticed his scar and started whispering among themselves before one brave man finally went up to him and asked, "Richard, how'd you get that nasty scar?" The man named Richard growled before finishing off his pint and almost slamming the glass down on the bar.